Fire in the East
by ArkonOridan
Summary: Here we take a look at the Empire that Caesar left behind when he marched west to face the NCR, in what he felt would be the only worthy combat for the Legion. He was wrong...
1. Forward and Prologue

**Forward**

* * *

After I completed FNV for the final time, completing every possible ending, I began to consider Caesar's state of affairs. Caesar left Flagstaff for twenty seven years, ruling the Legion from Fortification Hill. During that time, what was happening in the fledgling empire he left behind. And after he died, what became of it?

Finally I sat down and cobbled together a simple idea, which then grew into a grand one. Here we will follow the adventures of a Legionnaire of New Rome, ruled by the new Caesar, Augustus. I won't spoil what is to come, but the Legion has come a long way from the Nomadic tribe of warriors it used to be…

During the story, you will see various * marks. This signifies that it is a part of the story I feel requires more explanation, and if you go down to the bottom of the page, you will see a section called "Authors Notes" where I will indeed explain things.

**Prologue**

* * *

The Courier arrived from the west in the early hours of the morning. It had taken him a month to escape the NCR Ranger squads tasked with hunting fleeing Legionaries, and executing them. Finally, he arrived in Flagstaff, Arizona, the Capital of the Legion...

Or at least, it was.

He approached the west gate, and called for the guards to open the gate. The gates lowered, the creak of the wenches unusually loud in the silence of the night. It landed on the ground with a dull _thunk_, and the Courier hurried inside. He was met by the Duty Centurion in charge of the gate, who held out his hand for the message the Courier carried. It was one of Caesar's usual scrolls, bearing his sigil of the Bull. Now relived of his burden, the Courier leaned against the wall and sank to the ground, his face in his hands.

The Centurion stared curiously at the Courier, before shrugging and turning to headquarters. While Caesar was away from Flagstaff, a Legate was in command of the Legions eastern forces and charged with policing the area of raiders and dissidents. The Centurion considered him a good man, unlike Legate Lanius in the west. Legate Augustus cared for his soldiers, and did not needlessly throw them into death. When Augustus ordered his Legion into battle, they went with the knowledge that they would come out alive. That confidence alone made a major impact in battle.

As he walked through the streets of Flagstaff, he watched the men of the Legion walk about. Each one of them was nearly a slave, but none of them cared about that. For Caesar, they would lay down their lives. Because Caesar was the Son of Mars, the one who would reshape the world as Mars saw fit.

The Centurion arrived at the Legates Headquarters, a Pre-War building called a Library. The Legate had moved his office here two years ago, and had amused himself reading the histories of past military victories from the Pre-War era. He pushed open the door, and walked up to the central desk. It was circular, and sat four Legion couriers. When they weren't delivering messages across Legion Territory, they acted as the Legate's Scribes, delivering messages across the camps, and organizing Troops and Supplies to be sent to Legion garrisons.

One of the Couriers looked up as the door opened, and greeted the Centurion.

"Is the Legate in his office?" The Centurion asked, holding up the sealed Scroll.

"Yes Centurion, he's just reading on of his books." The Courier replied, returning to his paperwork. "You can go in, Caesar's Scrolls get priority."

The Centurion thanked the Courier and moved past the central desk towards the back of the Library. He knocked on the door and waited for the Legate to finish his page, as he usually did before answering the door. This time however, it took several minutes before the Legates voice was heard.

The Centurion opened the door quietly, and stood at attention in front of the Legate. The Legate finally turned the last page of his book and looked up at the Centurion.

"Oh, hello Decimus. Come with another watch log for me to look over?"*

"No sir, we have received a message from Fortification Hill. Caesar has sent word to us."

"Well then, please read me the words of our _Dear_ Caesar."

The Centurion paused for a moment as he heard the sarcasm in the Legates voice. That wasn't normal, as the Legate usually laid much praise on Caesar. However, he did not wish to anger his Legate, so he broke the seal on the scroll and began to read aloud.

"_These are the words of Lucius, Head of the Praetorian Guard of Caesar. The second battle of Hoover Dam has begun and ended. Caesar has fallen. Lanius has fallen. I will soon follow them. Mars has forsaken the Legion this day, and I find myself in command of the last remnants of the Legionaries. As I write these words, the NCR forces are attempting to breach the gates of Fortification Hill, and soon they will succeed. Before I lead the last of my men into battle, I name Legate Augustus the new Caesar, as is my right as Caesar's heir._

_Farewell Legion."_

The Centurion stared at the scroll again, rereading the words to make sure he had seen them correctly. The Legate stared at the Centurion, his face blank. Finally, he closed his book and set it on the desk. The Centurion looked at it, trying to make out the words on the spine. Finally, he deciphered what it said and mumbled,

"_The History of the Roman Empire_…"

The Legate stood, and made for the door.

"Come, Centurion," He said in a grave tone, "There is much work to be done…"

(*Authors note: Legion Watch logs recorded the comings and goings of merchants, to check whether they were getting to other settlements, or being raided by bandits. Legionaries were then sent out to deal with said bandits.)


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One

_**Twenty Years Later…**_

"On your feet you lazy sons of bitches!"

Cato jumped up from the rock he was resting against, and shouldered his marching pack. As the weight shifted from one side to the other, one of the straps broke with an audible _SNAP_. The Decurion snapped his head around, the stylized feathers of his helmet swaying in a cascade of colors.

"What in the _fuck_ was that, recruit!"

Cato turned his head to the Decurion and saluted before replying,

"Sir! My pack broke a strap!" He replied, and swung the pack back off to show the officer .

The Decurion took the pack from him, and studied the strap for a moment. Then, in a flash of gleaming metal, he drew his Gladius and slashed off the other strap. He smiled at his handiwork and passed the bag back to Cato.

"There you are recruit! Now hold that pack above your head, and I swear to Mars, if it drops below your shoulders I will personally escort you to hell, where you can spend quality time with that bastard Edward Sallow."

Cato swore at his misfortune and lifted the pack above his head, where his travel rations, water skin, sleeping bag, and other assorted necessities of Legion life shifted towards the center and began to weigh down his arms. The Decurion sheathed his gladius, and began the march again. To take his mind of the ache that was beginning in his shoulders, Cato thought about the Decurion's choice of words. The name sounded familier to him, and yet…

And then he remembered. Edward Sallow, also known as Caesar, was the previous Emperor. He was blessed with a holy mission from Mars, and failed. The new Emperor, Augustus, was presented with the same mission, and told the Legion that Caesar was sent to the pits of Hell to burn for his failure, and that the same fate would not befall him.

Following his ascension to power, a civil war had taken place within the Legion. Those still loyal to Caesar had to be purged, and for two years the Legion was destabilized. Finally, thanks to several advancements in the Legionaries equipment and tactics, the remnants of Caesars Legion were brought to the field and routed with minimal casualties to Augustus's Legion.

All roads to the west were now sealed and guarded, in case the NCR tried advancing farther east. In time an uneasy agreement started between the two nations, and trade began to flourish. Augustus finally returned to Flagstaff, and the reconstruction of the Empire had begun.

As Cato and the other recruits marched down the road, their destination finally game into view. The metal glinted in the sun, and at a distance it could be mistaken for a pile of scrap. But as they got closer, they saw that the metal scraps were expertly piled and supported, making a formidable wall that enclosed the fortress behind it.

Fort Lupus, home of the Second Legion of Augustus. One of the first acts of the Emperor was to construct this second Legion, comprised entirely of new recruits, and sixty veteran Centurions. Its duty was to guard the Eastern border of the Empire, as most of it was entirely uncharted, while the First Legion guarded the west, with the Veteran warriors poised to strike the NCR at any sign of hostility.

Cato stared up at the walls in awe. They had been marching from Flagstaff for two weeks, where Cato and several others had signed up for Legion service. Unlike Caesers regime, Augustus accepted only volunteers for his new Legion, arguing that those who did not choose to join were cowards, and not worthy of Legion Training.

As they approached the gates, they swung open and men began marching out to meet them. Eighty Legionaries, along with their Centurion, took up position infront of the gate, some with every one of them armed with the weapons of the Legion. As they stood at ease, Cato took a moment to study them. Each of them had their Pilarifle*, a simple tube of metal with a spike attached to one end, it also had a stock and magazine fed firing mechanism attached. Strapped to their wastes, they also carried a Gladius and a 9mm pistol and several spare clips for it. In their left hands, resting against the ground, were their shields.

Pre-war Law enforcement had called them_ Riot Shields_ and they were used to pacify hostile citizens. The Legion had found them stockpiled in Flagstaff in a building called a Police Department. After studying them for a time, Augustus had found that they were bullet proof and resistant to the bladed weapons of Caesars Legion.

The Shield had been instrumental in the Civil War, as it provided a mobile wall of cover for the Augustus's forces. After the war, they were mass produced by captured Profligates known as Gun Runners. Once equipped with these, Augustus set about upgrading the rest of the Legion equipment.

Their armor, for instance, was not suitable for the rapidly changing times, and Legion Smiths began crafting a metal version, melted down and reforged from tin and aluminum cans, sheet metal, plates, knives, forks, and any other useless metal they could get their hands on. For the most part, the armor was standardized among the Legion, with only the scouts retaining the leather armor.

The Gladius was remade as well. The Legion of old had used lawnmower blades attached to sticks as their weapon of choice. Augustus distasted these, as they were prone to wear out and break faster than the Legion could find replacement blades. So he had those forged as well, this time from actual Iron Ingots, which were taken from a mine a few miles from Flagstaff.

The Decurion halted the column, and ordered them into formation, using the flat of his Gladius to smack slower recruits into their places. Finally satisfied, he left the battered and bruised recruits and saluted the Centurion.

"Ave Centurion Marcus. By the authority of Augustus, I have brought fresh meat for the grinder!"

(Authors Note: Pilarifle*: Using captured Gun Runner workers, Augustus had this weapon designed for the legionaries, to replace the random assortment of firearms they had used before the reform. The Pilarifle is named after the Pre-War Roman Empires Pilum, or javelin. Each Legionary would normally carry two Pila (Plural of Pilum) and would throw them at the enemy before they advanced to close combat with their shorter swords. Augustus's Legionaries each carry three or four .308 rounds while marching on campaign, while garrisoned forces will be known to use considerably more while defending their outposts. The Pilarifle is accurate from short to medium range, relying on a mass firing of the weapon to damage enemy formations or defensive positions.)


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

The next two months went by in a blur for Cato. The forty recruits who had completed the first day had been assigned to Centurion Lucius, who lead them through the rest of their training. On the second day, they had been issued weighted wooden sticks, and practice shields. They were instructed to bring them wherever they went. The third day was agony for the recruits, as they had to complete another run weighted down with the their weapons.

Physical training continued for the next two weeks, and then weapons training had begun. At this point, they had all grown a grudging respect for the Centurion. Through the hell of it all, he had stood with them, wearing the weighted gear, running the laps, and even eating with them occasionally.

Eventually, the recruits learned more about their Centurion. Lucius had been the son of a Praetorian of Caesar's guard. Due to his lineage, he had struggled through the first few years of Augustus's Reign, but had earned his place during the final battle of the civil war. He had led two squads of ten into a weak spot in the Rebel lines, and allowed Augustus to run his praetorians right through to the center. The action had earned him his Centurion title, and he took command of the four squads left in his century.

He was then stationed on the western border of the empire, making minor incursions into NCR territory to test their defenses. When the non-aggression agreement had been decided, he returned east. Since then, he had been stationed at Fort Lupus to train more legionaries to replace the losses to his century.

Finally, their training was nearing an end. Their final tests had arrived, and his squad would face off against the other three in a mock battle. The squad who won would be given honors, and be given the first pick of arms and armor. They would also be recognized as the Prime Legionaries of the Century.

Cato, armed with his practice shield and sword, and with a compressed air gun laying on the ground next to him, sat under the shade of the wall, and waited for the Centurion to come out and direct them. The air gun had been added late in their training, and fired a rubber round instead of a lethal one, with enough power to know you were struck, but not enough to kill.

In front of him, a makeshift battlefield had been constructed. Sandbags had been piled atop one another, and a trench had been dug in the middle of the field, with a bridge spanning across it. The four squads would enter the field wherever they wished, with the goal of elimination, and capturing the other squads' banners.

Beside him, Oppius drew a picture in the dirt with the end of his sword. On the other side, Flavius stood studying the field. Of the ten of them, they had elected Flavius to lead in this battle. In his tribe, he had been trained for Legion life since his birth. His leadership ability was obvious, and the others were glad to have him with them.

Cato stood, and stretched his arms above his head. After two months, the weights on his arms no longer bothered him, the muscles in his arms strengthened by the constant effort. Flavius turned his head and smiled at him. Cato smiled back, and knew that the other man had already formed his plan.

"Cato, I have a plan!" He announced, and Cato laughed.

"Well, as long as one of us does, eh?" Cato replied.

"Yes well, do you want to hear it?"

"Of course, please continue."

Flavius crouched down in the dirt, and quickly sketched the battlefield in the dirt. The other recruits gathered around and studied the map.

"We will enter here," He said, drawing an arrow next to the trench, closest to the bridge, "And we will secure that bridge. On the way there, we will gather several of those sandbags, and construct barriers on either end of the bridge. From there, we just have to let them smash against us again and again until they are to worn down to resist a counter attack."

Cato continued to study the map, then nodded at the genius of the simple plan.

"So basically, you want us to hide like cowards?" A voice said from the back of the circle of men, "I don't know about you, but I won't be doing that."

Cato looked around, and found the source of the voice. Oppius stepped into the inside of the circle, and stared at Flavius. Flavius stared back with a cold look. The two men had been rivals even before the Legion, their tribes constantly at war with each other.

"Yes, you will." Flavius said, his eyes remaining locked on Oppius's. The other man snorted, and spit on the map in the dirt.

"I would rather fight alone, then sit on my hands and wait!" He shouted, and kicked the dirt, ruining the map. Flavius cursed and jumped up, his arm coming back to strike Oppius. Just before the blow landed however, another voice barked out.

"**Recruits**! Line up for inspection!" Centurion Lucius marched out of the gates, and came to rest in front of Cato's squad. The other three squads came running over, and joined in the formation. Flavius and Oppius forgot their anger, and hurried to join the line before Lucius rounded on them.

Lucius walked through the ranks, straightening armor, tightening straps on their helmets. Meanwhile, another party moved out of the gates, and stood at attention with their shields and swords at the ready. They wore red cloaks over their armor, and wore sunglasses.

Then another man came out, atop what appeared to be a mutated animal of some kind. It had six legs, and a strip of hair on its neck. The rest of it was covered in leathery skin. As it moved, it tossed its head back and forth as the rider pulled the reins in its mouth.

The man took up position in front of the red-cloak legionnaires, and suddenly Cato understood who it was. Lucius had just finished his inspection, and walked to the front of the formation, drawing his sword and saluting the man on the animal.

"_Legatus_" He said, bowing his head, "The recruits are ready for battle…"


End file.
